by Sun Chara
“I don’t.”
A smile split his mouth, and he placed his finger under her chin, lifting it up so she had to look at him. “But it bothered you?”
“Couldn’t care less.” She swatted his hand away.
“And so that’s why you married me?” he asked, his body still touching hers, his heat shooting into her and heightening her senses.
“I married you because—” She broke off realizing he almost got a confession out of her she wasn’t ready to give.
“You married me because of the million plus that filled your greedy little palm.” He gripped her shoulders, his breath ruffling wisps of hair at her temple. “And that was the tip of the iceberg, compared to what you’d pull in, working from the inside, married to me.”
She jerked in his arms.
“Hit a nerve, have I?” he bit out, his query icing her flesh even in the balmy Mediterranean night. “You’ll pay off what you stole and deliver the your accomplice.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped, but her voice dipped.
“The guy in the village—”
“No!”
“—wouldn’t be your dancing partner?” he said, his eyes like Arctic ice.
She gasped for air.
He blasted out a breath.
“He means that much to you?”
“Yes…no.” She twisted the ring on her finger; she’d managed to slip it on when she dashed back to the shack for her purse seconds before take-off. “Please don’t, Cade.”
“Please don’t what, Cade?” he bit back, his words fierce, noting her motion.
“It’s not your business.”
He laughed, a dry sound. “What belongs to me is sure as heck my business, sweetheart.” He trailed his fingers through her hair, and cupped her cheek, grazing the sensitive pulse point at her throat.
“He has nothing that is yours, Cade.”
He outlined her mouth with his fingertip, the pad of his thumb brushing her bottom lip. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His touch did things to her insides, her nerves; her heart lunged, then sped. She gulped some champagne, it went down the wrong way, and she sputtered.
“You okay?” He patted her back.
“Yes,” she wheezed, and staggered back a step, the balcony rail pressing into her back.
“Sure?”
She nodded, and plunked the glass on a nearby table. She blinked at the moonlight shimmering on his face, accentuating the planes and shadows of his features…a warrior’s face; strong, powerful—merciless.
Cade drew closer, pressing his advantage so tightly his thighs skimmed the material of her dress.
She started, and something indefinable skittered across his gaze.
“Now how did I break the deal?” He lowered his mouth, his voice husky, his breath teasing her lips.
“You never intended to go through with it.” She swallowed, her words sounding sluggish even to her own ears.
“You mean this?” He shifted and his mouth crushed hers.
She pressed her hands against his torso—a barricade, but his body heat permeated his shirt, singeing her fingertips. The feel of silk beneath her palms spiked the sensual assault on her mouth; gliding her hands up and across his chest, she looped her arms around his neck.
His kiss rocked her to her toes, and she held on to him, the hair at his nape tickling her knuckles. And then, he deepened the intimate connection … his tongue slid into her mouth, stroked… invited…and she accepted, swaying with him to the waltz of her senses.
Just for a moment, she lost herself in their passion…in him. Then a cargo ship out in the harbor blew its horn, the sound piercing. She swung her hand out to shove him back and instead knocked the champagne glass off the table. It crashed to the floor and alcohol fumes filled the air.
“L-let go, please.” She sucked oxygen into her lungs, the wine-spiked air stinging her throat.
Silence. Dark. Foreboding.
He inclined his head, his breathing labored. “If that’s what you want.” He held onto her for a moment longer, then let her go, the force of his denial making her totter back against the banister.
The sea crashed upon the rocks, a crescendo of nature’s fury. A lover’s melody drifted out to them. Everything seemed to conspire against her resisting him. Her pulse leaped into her throat, and she gasped for air.
He skewered her with his granite gaze.
A tremor zipped through her, and she wrapped her arms about herself. “I don’t intend to be another notch on your stud belt—”
“Enough.” He set his jaw.
But she wasn’t done, not by a long shot. She wanted to strike out at him because she hurt…hurt being so near him, yet hurt at the distance between them that was like a chasm.
“—married to you or not.”
“Now there’s an interesting statement.”
She curled her fingers around the rail behind her, the metal imprinting her flesh.
“Being hitched brings with it some—” –a glint in his eye, a killer smile on his mouth— “conjugal rights.”
She drew in a sharp breath that scalded her throat.
“And I intend to collect mine. Tonight.”
“Oh really?”
“Mmm, unless you wanna amend the agreement?”
“What d’ you mean?”
“Tag the hacker and I’ll cancel the note you owe me,” he said, his laser-sharp focus drilling into her. “Or pay up in more creative ways.”
You schmuck…you think you’ll get into her confidence with those tactics?
“Go to—”
“I wouldn’t keep referring to that—not a nice place.” His gut recoiled at memories bombarding his brain, every muscle in his body taut.
She pushed past him, and that snapped him from his thoughts.
“I take it that’s a no on both counts?” he said, attempting a lighter tone.
But when she kept walking, he bridged the gap in two strides and grabbed her arm. “Where do you think you’re going at this time of night?”
“Away from this toxic atmosphere.” She yanked her arm from his grasp. “I need some fresh air.” She meandered around him and breezed down the stairs.
Well okay, maybe he had that coming, but his male ego rebelled against her walking out on him again.
Her perfume lingered in the air. A nerve ticked in his jaw and worked its way down his neck to his shoulder blades. He watched her cross the gardens to the parking lot. In her haste, she stumbled, caught her balance and checked her boot. She limped through the massive wrought-iron gate, disappearing around the hedge of bougainvillea.
Cade shot into action, signaling his chauffeur with a wave of his hand.
******
Nina limped along the citrus-tree lined boulevard, and the eerie sound of the sea lapping the shore had her glancing over her shoulder. Except for the moonbeam lighting her path, she was surrounded by darkness. Foolish to have been so impulsive and—
Someone bumped into her, and she stifled a scream.
The shoeless couple giggled, slipping and sliding their way down the slope to the beach, the smell of booze and the sound of belching tainting the atmosphere.
Nina picked up her pace, and then stopped her awkward gait. What was she doing? Where was she going? There were no cabs or buses this far out of town, and she had no idea how many miles she’d have to traipse to get to public transport.
An owl hooted, and she froze. A flutter of wings and the bird flew off. She chuckled at her idiotic imaginings. An unsteady breath and she trekked on. She didn’t go two steps when headlights from behind caught her in the beam of light. Spinning around, she raised a hand to shield her eyes and hugged the shoulder of the road until the car passed.
But the vehicle swerved to a stop several feet ahead of her and blocked her path. Danger signals shimmied up her spine, her pulse racing, her breath shallow, rasping. She glanced about.
> Behind her, the estate was ablaze with lights, the sounds of music barely audible this far out. She couldn’t sprint for it. With her tight miniskirt and missing stiletto heel, she’d fall flat on her face. In front of her, the moonlight turned the deserted road into Spook Street. She bit her lip, caught between indecision, but when the car door opened, she poised for flight.
“Get in.” Cade’s clipped command stopped her in motion.
But just for a second.
“No.” She backed away, and her foot slid down the embankment. Loose soil and pebbles sounded like an avalanche in the stillness of the night bar the purr of the engine.
Cade lunged, seizing her elbow. “Another foot or two and I’d have to fish you from the bay.” He motioned toward the hush of surf. “Ditto my chauffeur dragging the intoxicated couple from plunging—” He shook his head. A lock of hair flopped on his forehead, and he bashed it back with his hand. “Not two feet from you is a ledge with a sheer drop to the ocean. The warning sign is invisible in the dark.”
Reaction rattled her, and she spat back, “I’ll take my chances—”
“Don’t be foolish.” He hooked his arm around her waist and slung her over his shoulder.
She kicked her feet in the air and swung her arms at him, but missed. And that had her boiling mad. “Put me down, you—you—”
“Sure thing.” He plunked her down in the front seat of the limo and slid into the driver’s seat. “Buckle up, babe.” A moment, and he pressed on the gas pedal, zooming off.
“Where’re we going?”
“Home.” He tossed her a glance, and she averted her face, glaring out at the night whizzing by.
Nina blinked the blur of tears from her eyes. Home. If that were only true. But it was distant as that star in the sky, twinkling on its lonesome.
“What, no ‘thank you’ for saving your life?” he asked, tongue-in-cheek.
She favored him with what sounded like a snort.
He chuckled. “Okay, so you can say thank you later.”
She flounced further from him in the confining space.
“In bed.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was past midnight when Cade carried her over the threshold of their village abode, booting the door shut behind him. Slung over his shoulder, Nina felt like a sack of potatoes, and itching to strike out at him, thought it smarter to play possum.
Without pausing to turn on the light, he flung her on the bed, his breath a rush of sound in the quiet of night. She kept her eyes closed, hoping he’d march out to the barn, and then, she’d leap up and make her escape.
“Sleeping beauty,” he murmured, his words a warm caress upon her skin. When she remained motionless, except for the rise and fall of her breasts, he gathered her in his embrace. Her face was pressed against his shirt, his heart thrashing in her ear, his male scent an aphrodisiac. He shifted, and his half-open shirt gaped open, her mouth brushing his chest.
Erotic. And dangerous.
He steeled his arms about her, and then relaxed, one hand stroking her nape, the other fumbling for the zipper of her dress.
She held her breath.
He unzipped her dress.
Her heart rate hiked off the map.
He paused at the base of her spine.
A reprieve. But was it? She wanted him to continue.
He glided his hands along the curve of her hip to her thigh and pulled off her boot, his fingers trailing down her leg to her ankle until her foot nestled in his palm.
Heat suffused her body, her lungs about to explode.
A sigh of relief when he massaged the arch of her foot, sensitizing her nerves to a fervor of tingles. He removed her other boot and pulled an object from his jacket pocket.
“This yours?” he asked, his voice gravelly.
“Mmm.” She nodded, barely opening her lashes. The stiletto heel she’d broken in her dash through the car park, held in his palm.
He set it on the floor beside her boot, and placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs stroking the pulse points at her neck. Slowly as molasses, he shimmied the dress off her shoulders and down to her waist.
Cold air brushed her skin, a direct contrast to the heat of his touch, and goose bumps erupted on her body.
Cade drew in a sharp breath, and his hands shook. Her breasts were adorned in lace, their nipples straining for his touch. Moonlight shimmered through the half open shutters, casting light and shadow on her. Over this delectable female who was his…not technically, but legally. Caution flashed through his mind, but it was overridden by erotic fantasies about this woman he held in his hands, had in his care, in his keeping.
Ignoring the reservations bombarding his brain, he could still enjoy her; after all, she’d not only quipped ‘I do’ but cashed out on him. Every sinew in his body tightened, his lungs constricted, and he blasted out a breath.
Payback.
And this is how you want it? He locked his mind against the attack of his conscience. With her? The thought persisted. A quickie on the fly?
Shut up.
An act of seduction?
He clamped down on the irritants, tuning in to his body’s reaction, his heart— a muscle clubbed his chest.
Bunching her dress in his hands, he pushed it lower, his fingers tensing over the material, his blood heating. The trinket at her navel gleamed, and he was hard pressed not to dip his head, fuse his mouth to the spot and flirt with his tongue.
He nudged the fabric over her hips and down her thighs, and he almost buckled at the knees. A silk scrap of nothing covered the shadow between her thighs, fueling his libido. He gulped down his lust, for of course that’s all it could be, he reminded himself, blocking the niggle in his brain. With a swift flick of his fingers, he discarded the dress from her body.
Air filled his lungs, and he closed his eyes, allowing it to sizzle from his lips.
He pulled the covers back, stole another glance at the goddess in his bed and draped the blanket over her. He brushed his thumb along the curve of her cheek to her mouth, outlining her lips…soft, moist…he could almost taste—
She opened her mouth and nipped his thumb.
“Hey.” He yanked his hand away and caught the glint of mischief in her eyes.
Or was that a dare?
“Move over, wife.”
Nina was wound up like a spring ready to come unhinged; her pulse skyrocketed. His touch lingered on her mouth, and she licked her lips, tasting him. But doubts zoomed in her brain. To him she was just another woman, regardless if she was married to him or not. Was this a way for him to salve his ego?
And could she allow it? Something inside her stirred, but she paid it no heed. Maybe just this once, she could forget their differences and partake in the forbidden pleasure he offered.
The hush of sound as he removed his shirt reached her, and she peeked at him from beneath her lashes. Her body blushed with anticipation, then cooled with fear. Not of him, but what her reaction would reveal to him; what she suspected, but didn’t want to admit even to herself. She burrowed beneath the covers and hugged the pillow, smothering a moan.
Was she falling for this guy? That was something that she couldn’t allow.
He unbuckled his belt and sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress depressing beneath his weight.
She held her breath, her heart thudding, knowing, you couldn’t love to order.
And afterward? Her mind shot back. Who’s going to pick up the pieces?
Before she could formulate an answer, he reclined and reached for her. Her stomach clenched, she swallowed, and a kick of emotion zinged through her. She was about to open her arms to him, when his cell phone beeped, puncturing the silence of the room. She muffled a nervous giggle.
A heavy beat.
It beeped again.
An expletive incinerated the air.
He grabbed his jacket from the floor, yanked the phone from the pocket and flipped it open. “Sloan.”
A moment ticked by, a
nd he shot her a covert glance. “You’ve located him?”
Nina’s eyes flew open, and she drew the blanket up to her chin, the chill invading her body and freezing her bones. Caught whom? Her father?
“Sure it’s him?”
A grim stillness.
He met and held her gaze, hesitated, then, “On my way.”
A regrettable sigh and he stroked her cheek with his fingers. “You can relax,” he murmured, but an underlying seriousness belied his mocking tone. “You’ll be sleeping alone tonight.”
A moonbeam cast light and shadow on his body…strong, virile, powerful.
Sexual.
He was all male, a rare man, this man she married. Nina heard the swish of clothes as he got dressed. She slammed her eyes shut, gulping down disappointment, but it was quickly doused by his harsh words.
“Get coffee brewing…this won’t take long.” His words clipped, his tone cool. “You’ve got one reprieve” he paused, allowing his eyes to skim over her, “but you’ll make up for it when I get back.” He swept his jacket off the bed, his body rigid, his mouth tight. “And you can quit the sleeping beauty routine.”
Tension vibrated between them, the connection charged with high wattage emotion.
“You will deliver, yeneka mou, wife.” He bit the word out like it was poison on his tongue. “And you will initiate it.”
She flinched and drew the covers over her head.
His chuckle compounded her ire, her impassioned words of denial muffled beneath the bedding.
“With the brew, my breakfast, agape mou.” He strode to the door, the sound of his footsteps echoing back to her. “Make sure the eggs are fresh from the chicken coop, the bacon sliced from the slab in the fridge and the toast from oven-baked bread.” A pause at the door and, “Freshly squeezed orange juice right from the tree.”
He unlatched the door. “Oh, and don’t forget to make some for yourself.”
At his parting shot, Nina could no longer curb her tongue. She flung the blanket off her face, bolted upright and clutched the bedcovers over her bosom. “Concern for me?” A brittle laugh, then a break in her voice.
“I don’t want you fainting” he tossed her a dark look, and his words shot straight into her heart, “doing my laundry, ironing my shirts, shining my boots—”